


Book IX: The Hermit

by DarkeShayde



Series: The Arcana: A Retelling [9]
Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Bad Weather, Bar Room Brawl, Blood and Violence, Cuddling & Snuggling, Discovery, Drinking, Execution, F/M, Falling In Love, Healing, Injury, Investigations, Kissing, Magic, Memories, Memory Loss, Murder Mystery, Mystery, Other, Rain, Recovered Memories, Spells & Enchantments, Visions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-29
Updated: 2018-11-29
Packaged: 2019-09-02 03:22:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16778605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkeShayde/pseuds/DarkeShayde
Summary: Arsa gives Shayde a hint about where to search for answers. The Coliseum, or rather, under it. With Julian in tow, Shayde learns where they need to go next. A trip into the woods reveals a new twist to the tale.





	1. Helping Hands

The next morning, I leave my guest room and head into the dining room, still blinking sleep from my eyes, and am surprised to see it’s already bustling. Nadia sits at the head of the table, and to her right … Asra. He smiles softly at me as I enter. Faust, ever nearby, is curled around his water goblet, lazily lapping at it. Asra doesn’t seem to mind.

“Ah, Shayde. Finally awake?” Nadia asks, when she looks up at sees me in the doorway. “Come, join us for breakfast.” I make my way over to the table and have a seat. After the long day yesterday, I feel like I’m starving.

“You had a pretty late night. Did you get enough sleep?” Asra inquires after I’ve settled myself. It’s true … after I escorted Julian to the edge of the garden, I’d slipped back to the Palace to avoid suspicion. Julian told me he would be waiting for me at Mazelinka’s today, whenever I could get away … I wonder how long he’ll wait for me there.

“Shayde didn’t get back from the shop until after dark … It’s a long walk.” Asra says to Nadia. I feel bad lying to her, but this is for the greater good. Plus, Asra did it first, so …

“It’s a pity you didn’t ask for a carriage, Shayde, the Palace would have been happy to provide one.” Nadia admonishes me with a playful smile. “Ah well. Did you find what you were looking for?”

“Yes, I did.” I nod, thinking of the key we found in the library. Now we just need to figure out what exactly we _did_ find. A key isn’t much use if you don’t know what it unlocks.

“Wonderful!” Nadia says. “Pardon my curiosity, but what exactly was it you were looking for?” She’s not talking about the key. She’s talking about the “herb” I was supposedly getting from the shop. For a moment, I freeze. I hadn’t thought about what I was going to say. My brain has not reached full functions yet. I haven’t been awake look enough.

“I asked her to pick up some murkroot.” Asra says, once again coming to my rescue. “Turns out it didn’t help, though. I made Shayde miss dinner for nothing.” Asra winks at me when Nadia isn’t looking, a soft smile playing on his face. It’s warm, and a little mischievous. Like we’re sharing a secret, or playing some game together. So much like old times.

“Ah, what a pity.” Nadia says. It all feels overly formal. Not the comfortable and familiar exchange that I have grown used to in the last few days. It is as if Nadia is more on ceremony than normal because Asra is here.

“Sorry, milady. We’ll keep trying though.” Asra apologizes. I nod my agreement, though I have other plans to discover what really went on that fateful night.

“Please, call me Nadia.” Is the response we receive.

“Of course, Nadia.” Asra says with a slight bow of his head and that indulgent smile I rarely see these days.

“I’m told you’re quite knowledgeable about magic, Asra. And that you are Shayde’s teacher.” Nadia says in an attempt at a topic switch. Almost as if she sees she is getting no concrete information from us about what we are up to.

“Oh, Shayde’s always been pretty good at magic too. She makes a mean pep-up potion.” Asra answers.

“Ah, I see. How interesting.” Nadia says. “How refreshing it is to be surrounded by real magicians. I’ve little patience for the common frauds that litter the fortune-telling tents at market.” That I have to agree with. Those charlatans give the rest of us a bad name.

“More tea?” Portia pops up from seemingly nowhere. She stands at Nadia’s elbow, peering in interest at all of us. A small teapot is clutched in her hands. Nadia smiles indulgently up at her, letting her hand rest delicately on Portia’s elbow.

“You’ve been working hard this morning, Portia. Why don’t you join us?” Nadia says graciously. Knowing Portia, that is just the invitation she has been waiting for.

“O-oh, milady! The bread won’t butter itself, I couldn’t!” Portia exclaims. Then she sits right down at the table with us, leaning eagerly towards Asra. I hold back a giggle at her antics. That eager face will be hard to resist.

“So, is your magic different from Shayde’s? What kinda stuff can you do?” She fires questions at him in rapid succession. Asra is smiling at her now too. It is interesting to see that apparently Julian’s distrust of magic is not a family trait.

“Are you interested in magic? Maybe I could teach you a few tricks, too.” He offers.

“Wow, really?! Can you teach me some right now?” She asks eagerly. “Uhm. If it is ok with milady, I mean. I guess I am technically on duty …”

“I don’t see why not.” Nadia says with a wave of her hand. “I’d quite like to see what you’re capable of, Portia.” The conversation fades off into more talk. Asra leans over and murmurs in my ear when the others aren’t looking.

“Meet me at the fountain after breakfast. We need to talk.” I nod. Asra disappears after breakfast before I can talk to him, so I head down into the garden towards the fountain. It’s warm, sunny day, though I can see a hint of dark clouds on the far horizon. Asra’s already seated on the lip of the fountain when I arrive, trailing his fingers idly into the water. He smiles warmly as I sit down beside him.

“… It was good to see Nadi again. She hasn’t changed much.” He says. That’s right. Asra knew her before … I start to ask something about when he knew Nadia and why they are strangers now, but he speaks before I get the chance.

“She doesn’t remember me. Her memories are missing … a lot like yours.” He says next. I haven’t told Julian about my own missing memories yet … Maybe because I don’t know what it means. Or maybe because he and I haven’t gotten a moment to ourselves since this whole thing began. Still, if Nadia is missing memories like Julian and I are … Who else is? Are some people involved in this missing something besides memories?

“Are you missing anything?” I’ve never really asked him before. When it was just us, it was easy not to think about it. But if Nadia and Julian are affected by a similar spell … it seems like too much to be a coincidence. I don’t believe in coincidence. Nothing really happens by chance. Fate has their hand everywhere.

“Me?” Asra asks, voice far too high to sound believable. “What would I be missing?” He isn’t looking at me. A hand hovers over his chest for a moment, clutching at the fabric briefly, and then the tension passes. His hand flutters back down to his side. What was that about?

“We’re all missing something.” Asra says cryptically. “Nadi and Ilya … They chose to forget. But that’s not why I asked you here. You and Ilya are trying to figure out what happened that night, right? That’s why you were at the Palace. You’re lucky Faust let me know you were in trouble … Shayde … Why are you helping him?”

“I want to find the truth.” I reply firmly. I don’t like the admonishing tone he is using with me, like I am a child that needs direction and advice. Julian has already said he would pay the price if he is guilty, but I don’t believe he is.

“Even if you won’t like what you find?” He counters. What does that mean? Does Asra know what we’ll find? I decide to wait to see if he will go on so, I remain quiet.

“Ilya, he … he’s not a perfect man. Not even really a good one. Then again, I suppose no one really is. Are you … that determined to uncover the truth?” He asks me. I feel like the answer I give will be pivotal to my investigation. I can only tell the truth.

“Yes. Both of us are. No matter what it is.” I tell him.

“I …” For a moment, I think he’ll tell me no … but his gaze softens, and he lets out a low sigh. “Seek out the Scourge of the South.” Asra’s shoulders slump, some distant pain fluttering across his face before fading. When he looks at me, I can see the sadness deep in his eyes.

“If you’re really determined to get answers … you’ll find him at the Coliseum.”

“Thank you.” I say sincerely.

“Please … stay safe.” He asks. I nod, words failing me as they get stuck in my throat, and turn my back to Asra as I head out of the garden. I have things to get done and now I have a more set direction. Julian is waiting for me at Mazelinka’s. He’ll want to know what I discovered … I only hope he didn’t get sick of waiting.

The trip into the city doesn’t take me as long this time. I know my way through the garden, passing through a lemonstone gate into golden fields. When I arrive at Mazelinka’s door, the sun is high in the sky, but the dark clouds on the horizon have creeped closer. A storm is coming. I can feel it. There’s a bustle and a scrape as I knock on her door, and after a moment of noise Julian answers the door breathlessly.

“Oh, there you are! Not that I was, err, waiting for you. Did you get out alright? Tell me you got out alright.” He says anxiously. Aw, he was worried. A figure comes up behind him as he leans casually against the door, shoving him aside. Mazelinka peers up at me, hands on her hips and a wooden spoon clutched in her hand.

“There you are! Hope you’ve come to take this mess off my hands. Boy’s been driving me crazy.” Mazelinka says, ever matter-of-fact. “Well?? Come in, do you need an invitation?”

“Well, Shayde, you heard her! Wouldn’t do to keep her waiting. Trust me, I’ve tried.” He steps aside and ushers me into Mazelinka’s house. The smell of familiar spices hits me as I step pass the threshold into the little house. Mazelinka heads over to the kitchen and peers into a glowing pot, sampling the brew before adding a dash of twigs. Then she ladies it into a small container, and places it in a rather full sack she shoves into my arms.

“Here.” She says, voice curt but not unfriendly. “That boy won’t eat unless you force him to, so I made you two lunch.” There’s a deep fondness in her eyes, and though her words sound harsh, I can tell how fond she is of Julian. I’m glad Julian has someone like Mazelinka around. Worry flits over her face.

“Make sure he eats. He’s too skinny as it is.” Mazelinka adds. I give her a conspiratorial nod and smile.

“Lithe, my dear. _Slender_. Svel- yowch!” Julian begins. He duck a friendly swat to the ear, and gives Mazelinka a dashing grin. “I’ll just go get my stuff then, shall I? Another exciting day, another exciting adventure.” He tugs a trapdoor open and drops down into the hole, head nearly bumping against the wood as he drops. He really should be more careful. Mazelinka gives me a long, discerning look, before speaking.

“He really does brighten up when you’re around, you know. It’s good to see.” She says. “But he’s a miserable mess when you’re not.”

“What does he say about me?” I can’t help but ask. I’m dying to hear what she has to say. Julian can be very reserved about what he feels or thinks. A fresh viewpoint will be interesting to hear.

“Lots of things … He was moaning and bellyaching about you while you were gone. Working himself up into a worry.” Mazelinka says, before speaking in a mocking tone. “Ohhh, Mazelinka, do you think she’s alright? Did she get back to her room safe? What if she got got caught? What if she’s in trouble because of me?” Mazelinka bustles around in the kitchen, wiping up chopped herbs and setting everything back to rights as she talks.

“He was ready to up and burst into the Palace and turn himself in for you.” She shakes her head, and sweeps some eggshells off the counter and into a flower pot.

“I’ve never seen that boy go all glossy-eyed like he does for you.” She pauses at the sink, turning back to look at me with a thoughtful expression. “… He cares about you.” She gives a wry grin, looking affectionately over at the open trap door. “So takes him off my hands for me, would you? And don’t let go … he’s a slippery boy.” I have absolutely no intentions of letting go.

“Who’s slippery, hm? Talking about me behind my back?” Julian appears in the trap door, climbing gracefully out. The tips of his ears are bright red. I take that to mean he could probably hear everything we have been talking about. He’s also fully dressed, coat buttoned and things packed. I hear the distinct jangle of coin.

“You’ve been telling tales again, Mazelinka.” Julian says.

“Nonsense. Never told a tale in my life. Now get out of my house.” Mazelinka retorts. She gives me a lingering look before toddling off, muttering to herself.

“Ahem. I, uh. You, er. About what Mazelinka said …” Julian starts somewhat hesitantly. “I do care … what happens to you, I do care. And I’m glad you’re on my side. So … uh, did you … find anything out from the Palace?” That is a clear subject change, but I’ll indulge it. He’ll soon be distracted by what I have to tell him.

“Well … I talked to Asra.” I tell him.

“You did? Uhhh, what did he say? Did he say anything about me?” Julian asks. He sounds kinda anxious about what Asra might have said, specifically about him.

“He told me to seek out the Scourge of the South, at the Coliseum.” I answer, deciding not to elaborate on Asra’s warning about him not being a good man, or about me not liking what we would find if we kept investigating the night of the murder.

“The Coliseum? What’s he playing at, that place hasn’t been used since-” Julian says. “Oho! Asra you sly dog. What were you doing poking around _there_ …? Ah well. I guess we’ll find out. Come along, Shayde. We’re going shopping.” I stand from my place at the table and follow Julian out of Mazelinka’s hut.

We approach the Coliseum on foot. I didn’t think it wise for a fugitive from the Palace to be borrowing a Palace carriage. Beside me, Julian makes no effort to hide his face. He doesn’t need to … there’s no one around at all. The Coliseum’s been abandoned for around three years. There hasn’t been a fight since the Count’s death. If there ever was a Scourge here, they’d only be fighting ghosts in the dirt now.

“It may look abandoned, Shayde … but it’s not.” Julian informs me as we walk up to the hulking structure. “There’s an entire Red Market that goes on beneath our feet, right under the nose of the Palace. I used to be a card-carrying member. Give me a second, I’ll have the way open in a jiffy.” He moves over to a blank wall set between two columns, running his long fingers over the brick. I see nothing special about the wall, but that is usually the purpose of a secret door. Still it doesn’t seem right.

“Hrrm … Which one was it … two to the left, three right, up, up, down …” He sounds like he is taking to himself. “Aha! Got it! Don’t be too frightened now, Shayde …” He steps back, and gestures to the wall with a wide flourish. Nothing happens. I’m not really surprised by this, if I’m being honest.

“Uhh. Did I press the wrong brick …? Did they take me off the VIP list?” He trails off, shaking his head. Asra wouldn’t have sent us here on a wild goose chase … and if I focus, I can feel energy thrumming beneath my feet, beating a wild, erratic rhythm. I close my eyes, centering myself and focusing on that untamed energy, trying to find a source. My feet move without my eyes looking as I follow the feeling. The edges of the darkness tinge slightly red as I get closer to the source.

“Uhh, Shayde? Where are you going- is this a magic thing? Are you doing a magic thing? Shayde, hello??” I can vaguely hear Julian’s voice, but remain focused on the energy. When I open my eyes, I’m standing in the middle of the arena, and there’s a small latch at my feet. I bend down, open it, and peer inside. There’s a rickety ladder, that I don’t look forward to climbing down, leading down into the darkness below.

“Well, would you look at that …” Julian mutters, sounding impressed. “Down the rabbit hole we go.”


	2. Celebrity Gossip

The market is cast in a red light, hazy. Everything has that blur to it that usually only comes in dreams. It looks like something out of a dream … or a nightmare. I never knew all this was down here … my eyes go everywhere at once. Julian leads me confidently into the smoke, around a bitter argument over the price of a twilight dreamfrog. It’s pointless trying to make out anything more than silhouettes and glinting flashes of precious metal. But it is a crowd. Crowds _could_ pose a problem. As soon as I have the opportunity, I pull Julian out of the fray.

“Dragging me into the shadows already, Shayde? We only just got here.” It’s hard to worry about his safety when his eyebrows are like that. His nonchalant attitude about everything is part charming, part infuriating. He probably doesn’t care, but … I do.

“You’re going to get spotted.” I say. By the stars, he is too careless … or thoughtless about some things. His safety being one of those things. Though he’d literally sacrifice himself to keep others out of danger.

“Oh, is that all? Don’t worry, I used to be a regular customer around here.” Julian says with a dismissive wave of his hand. “When it comes to medicine, there isn’t always time to waste on gentler treatments. You’ve got to get the most effective stuff you can find so … you go underground. Stuff like forbidden leeches. Their suck strength is incredible. It’s a real tug of war getting them off. I know this place so I can show you around. And if you’re still worried about someone turning me in … well. That’s not really on anybody’s agenda down here. Who wants the whole place crawling with guards?”

“What if there’s a bounty on your head?” I counter. This makes his face fall and his eye dart around in trepidation, scanning the smoke. Palace guards aren’t the only dangers out there. Thugs may be the enemy of the Palace, but I don’t think the enemy of my enemy is my friend in this case.

“Is there? A bounty on my head?” He asks in a worried whisper. I shrug, but give him a pointed look. Not that I’ve heard … but I’m learning that there is a lot I don’t know about in this city and the people in it. Julian bites his lip.

“Well, if you’re going to worry your sweet little head over it, you could put a spell on me.” He offers. That is a good idea actually. I have a spell that works surprisingly well and doesn’t take too much magic. The Nevermind Me spell. I focus my aura into an egg at the top of his head, crack it on his thick skull and let the nevermind me run down his face.

“That felt weird. Did you change me into somebody else again?” He asks. I can’t tell if he sounds apprehensive or excited about that prospect.

“No. You’re still you. People just won’t mind.” I reply.

“Really? Wow, what a useful trick.” Julian says. “You’re unusually powerful at this stuff, aren’t you Shayde? That’s mmmm … intimidating. Maybe I’ll absorb some of your magical touch. I hear it can do wonders for patients.” I might be mistaken, but he hasn’t seemed interested in magic before. If anything, he’s been judgmental. Blinking, I release him back to the flow of near silent foot traffic. Honestly … he should be more careful. Eyes slide over us. Some rove over Julian with interest before that interest fades. The spell is working.

“Hey you, you there. Ever heard of the Scourge of the South?” Julian calls to a nearby locust breeder, who is just lingering around.

“The fighter? He spilled more blood up there in the ring than anybody before or after.” Is the answer we receive back.  
“Ohh. So, he was a gladiator, a big deal.” Julian concludes.

“A big deal? He was undefeated … you’re not from around here, are you?” The stranger’s patience wanes and Julian lets them shuffle away. Best not to aggravate too many people down here. But our conversation draws another’s attention.

“Fighter? He was an executioner. His matches always ended the same.” Offers the brine merchant that overhead our exchange with the locust breeder. We turn our attention to this new conversation in the hopes of learning something.

“People got bored of watching him win, huh? Tough crowd.” Julian quips. With the way he acts around some of these rough characters, it is a wonder he wasn’t killed years ago.

“People wanted him taken out. Everyone wanted to see that guy fall.” The brine merchant says. That is interesting. That makes me wonder if some got their wish and we are just wasting our time … but Asra doesn’t believe in sending people on pointless quests.

“So we’re looking for an executioner. You think your master’s trying to say something?” Julian looks at me with a smirk. I roll my eyes at him. “Just kidding. I’m sure there’s another reason he told you to find a guy called the Scourge.”

Something catches his eye, and Julian catches me by the crook of my elbow. He drags me away from the brine merchant off after something that he apparently finds fascinating.

“Now wait a minute … what have we here?” He says. I follow his eager swerve toward a shadowy entrance with a creaking sign overhead hung by two rusty meathooks. Everything about this crumbing place is screaming at me to stay as far away as possible. Just like most of the other places Julian seems to frequent.

“The Jagged Dagger.” Julian reads from the faded lettering on the sign. There’s snarling inside, and a loud crash. A glass eyeball rolls out of the doorway before stopping at our feet. A salty seadog stumbles out after, pops the misty marble back into its socket and gives us a poisonous sneer … Before heading right back inside. Julian is clearly intrigued. I am not.

“This is my kind of place. What do you say? I bet there are some fans of the Scourge in there. You’ve been looking a little gray since you cast that spell on my face. I’ll get you a drink, maybe a bite to eat. Besides … I just can’t pass on a chance to get rowdy.” Julian offers. He is almost vibrating with suppressed excitement as he waits for my answer. I harden my stare and nod toward the entrance. Julian practically swoons, trailing after me as I lay my hand on the barely hanging door.

“You want rowdy?” I say, putting up a front of false confidence. “Let’s get rowdy.”

“Oh, you spoil me. Lead the way.” Julian replies with a slight bow towards me. We maneuver down the crooked stairs into a dark, roaring pub. The air is briny and thick. A silver tooth whizzes through the air past my ear. Tankards are smashed against groaning tables the size of a horse. The whole place looks absolutely disgusting and filthy. I’m regretting my decision, but I can’t back out now.

“Mhm, lively energy, lots of movement … I love it. Think they can fix a good drink?” Julian wonders aloud before turning to me. “What’ll it be, Shayde?” A scraggly character beside me at the bar grabs a tankard, throws it back, and immediately collapses as stiff as a board. Well, in for a penny …

“I’ll have what she’s having.” I say.

“Ohhh Shayde. I could just die.” Julian coos at me, his face spilt in a wide grin. “Two of what she had, barkeep.” The barkeep flashes us a narrowed eye and doesn’t stop stabbing the leg of their stool … Until Julian fetches a weighty gold coin from his crow feather waistpurse and slides it across the counter. Cute.

“Keep the change. Great atmosphere in here. The Coliseum is so empty and quiet … good to see the bloodlust underground is alive and well. Say, remember the Scourge? He was huge. I wonder what he’s up to right now.” While he tries his luck with that, I scoop up our drinks and scan the shadows for a place to sit … or rather hide from the chaos. Unfortunately, I trip over a mace on the way, probably placed there intentionally, and land face first into the biggest, meanest lap in the room. The rumbling of the mighty chest above me shakes me all the way to the floor as they rise to tower over me.

“You worm, I’m gonna kill you.” He growls down at me.

“You’re gonna kill _me_.” I hear Julian’s voice interject, suddenly right beside me. I’m on my feet quickly, leaping away from the angered stranger that blocks out the scant light as they stand. Like a massive catfish disturbed from the muck, they smack their lips and give Julian a yellow-eyed stare down. As tall as Julian is, this stranger is taller and much bulkier.

“What’d you say?” They ask rhetorically.

“I said if you’re looking to punish somebody, I’m your guy.” Julian says, far too calm considering the situation. By the stars, I should _not_ have come in here … or let this reckless doctor come in here either.

“You’re cruising for a deep bruising, you woodwind instrument.” This massive tough guy says with a snarl. By now, the whole of the Jagged Dagger is focused on this exchange. If I wanted to get out, I have no chance now. Spectators are blocking my path to the exit.

“So you are going to hit me then?” Julian asks sarcastically. Without further warning the stranger swings, scaly knuckles meeting Julian’s head with an unforgiving _thwuck_. There is a almost collective cringe at the sound. Just because he can heal from practically anything doesn’t mean that it doesn’t hurt.

“Not bad. I was expecting some ringing in my ears, though. Why don’t you do it again?” Julian taunts, blood now running from his temple and down his face. A tussle begins in earnest and I’m squeezed between muscular spectators who raise throaty howls of excitement. It’s not long before Julian is pinned to the floor, both crafty hands captured in one meaty claw over his head. The look on his face is almost bored, like this was a waste of time.

“Well … is it all out of your system now?” Julian asks, nonchalant. I don’t know what he’s talking about until the stranger stands, looming over him only to take a step back. There’s a knife sticking diagonally out of Julian’s side. He bends at the waist with a groan to examine it. He wipes his brow, grits his teeth and takes a firm grip on the handle. I can’t help but wince as he pulls the blade out of his side. By the groans in the room, I’m not alone in this.

“What? Don’t look at me like that.” Julian tells me. “Come on, Shayde. Let’s get out of here before I frighten someone. Ah, but lets not be wasteful.” He tosses me a saucy look, of all things. And then he chugs his whole drink … Even when it starts to spill from the gash in his waist and down his leg. The crowd takes a collective step backward. So much for not frightening anyone. My ears burn hotly as I haul him to the stairs, shoving at his back and trying to ignore the groan I get in response.

“Why do you do things like this?” I ask him in exasperation.

“Just to embarrass you, Shayde.” He shoots back with that damned smile. Something about his expression is so incorrigible that I have to wipe it off his face somehow. I swing him around the corner and capture his lips in a kiss that knocks him off guard. Just to embarrass him. It works wonders, rendering him speechless, eye fluttering. It takes him a moment to recover.

“Believe it or not, I was trying to help.” Julian says with a pout. “You’re straining your magic muscles, and I’m just dead weight. I can’t stand it. I need to be useful.” It’s … bothering him to sit on the sidelines while I do all the legwork? Did I get that right?

“You don’t need to be useful.” I tell him. People aren’t in my life to be _useful_. They are there simply because I want them to be. They don’t have to have a purpose beyond that.

“I … don’t follow.” Julian states.

“I’m saying you have worth to me other than random acts of usefulness.” I say, in an attempt to clarify.

“You’ve lost me.” Julian admits.

“I’m only doing all this because I like you.” I blurt out. By the stars, he can be dense sometimes. I have to keep reminding myself that I picked him, as thick as he is.

“Okay ……well, that’s. Sweet of you.” Julian stammers. “I’m touched. Well, here’s some news for you doll face … I’m only doing all this because I like you too.” That is as close as a love confession as I’m going to get from him in all probability. I can live with that for now.

We skulk around the market for a while longer and don’t have much luck in finding out anything useful. Nobody has seen the Scourge in forever. We’re almost all the way around the market when we get desperate and try to think of alternatives … Like a tracking spell.

“So if we can get you something related to the Scourge, you might be able to find him with that? Magic is really something. You’re like a hound dog.” Julian says. A hound dog? Before I can say anything about that not really being a compliment, someone else interrupts.

“Psst. Hey you. Asking around about the Scourge of the South, huh? Sounds like you’re my kind of rube.” Judging by the booth behind him, I’d say he is a memory dealer. And excuse me, but … rube?

“We might be. What do you have to offer?” Julian asks him, leaning forward curiously. I’ve been having him handle things like this, as he is very good at talking his way into or out of things. I don’t have that skill.

“Only the finest in secondhand memories. And I’m not talking third or fourth hand.” The dealer says. “I’m saying these are straight from the source. Seen ‘em with my own eyes. You can see them too … for a price.” This may be a lead.

“If it’s money you want, I’m not cheap.” Julian replies.

“Oh? Here I was, trying to make a friend of the infamous death doctor. I was going to give you a dis … count.” He empathizes that far too much. The pun is almost painful to hear. I resist the urge to groan. And … the infamous … death doctor? Is that what they are calling him? That seems awfully fanciful.

“HA! Well, you can name your price. After we have a look at these memories of yours.” Julian tells him with a sly grin. We’re led into a space the size of a closet. It smells swampy and there’s a hole in one wall.

“Just look into the memory hole and all will be revealed.” The dealer slides dusty partition over us and shuffles around outside. I hear a hacking cough. I resist the urge to cringe. I’m not overly freaked out by germs but … I’d rather avoid them.

“What’s that smell?” Julian suddenly asks.

“Aromatherapy.” Comes the response. “It helps the magic work.” Julian gives me a look as if to ask if that’s true. I give him a half shrug, half nod of reassurance before the tiny space goes dark. Red light comes from the hole. We squeeze in close and watch the vision that plays out before our eyes. A heaving, panicked figure collapses to the sand, crushed under a weighty boot as the Scourge raises his axe.

“You’re scum, Scourge!” That sounds like the voice of the brine merchant we talked to earlier today.

“Boo!” And that was clearly the locust breeder. Then, we hear Lucio’s nasally voice echoe through the Coliseum over the sound of the well-worn blade dragging across the sand.

“Who amongst us is booing my merciless champion? Do it louder!” The Count says. He wants his champion booed? I’ll never understand Lucio or how that mind worked … or didn’t work, I suppose.

“Boooooo!”

“Yes!!!! Make him feel really bad about it. Now carry out your dark duty, Scourge.” Lucio calls. “Or shall I remind you of your onerous debt.” … Steeling his gaze, the Scourge heaves the axe over his head and brings it down. When we are returned to the present, I feel as if I just saw something not meant for eyes to see. I have so many more questions now than I did before we watched the memory.

“Memories of the Scourge are really hard to come by.” The memory dealer assures us when we come out of the small enclosure. “This is the only one you’re gonna find where you can kind of make out his face. Want to know why? Because I have this!” The moment dealer flips a knife out of nowhere. Julian goes stiff as a rod next to me.

“What if I told you this is the Scourge’s personal blade? How many ill-fated necks have split upon it? Obviously, it’s a one of a kind. But for you … I’m willing to part with it.”

“What do you think, Shayde?” Julian turns to me. I eye the knife spinning on the end of the dealer’s pointed golden nail. Something in the back of my mind says no. It is a rather small weapon for a man of the Scourge’s size … and he had an axe in the memory.

“No deal.” I say.

“Ah, that’s what I was hoping to hear! There’s no fooling you.” The dealer says, but their expression doesn’t quite agree with their words. “Even the most casual of fans would know he, the Scourge, didn’t favor knives. But this …” The dealer whips out a gray-brown sheaf of sealskin. It looks pretty nondescript but it has a strong musty smell. It clearly needs to be washed. “I would offer no casual fan. The Scourge’s loin cloth.”

“Now that IS a find.” Julian says.

“That’s right. Think of all the victims who bore witness to its unfathomable contents.” The dealer says. Wait … what? I decide not to analyze that statement.

“I’m willing to bet it’s still got his imprint, Shayde? How about it?” Julian asks, his expression revealing nothing of his thoughts. The dealer flutters the loin cloth for me. It’s surprisingly short. That sixth sense once again isn’t satisfied.

“No deal.”

“All right, all right. Keepsakes of this caliber are not meant for the unappreciative.” The dealer says. Now they sound totally annoyed that we haven’t fallen for any tricks. “But not even the most discerning fan would turn _this_ away. Since I like you both so much … this is a one time offer, just for you.” It’s a boar bristle brush. The dealer offers it to me to peruse, changing their honeyed tone to a hushed one. Now, we are getting somewhere.

“This was his. Genuine article. You can still see the hairs on it. Now, do we have a deal?” They ask as they cross their arms. I close my eyes. I can imagine the steady sound of thick hair pulling slowly through the bristles. If I hold it close to my face, I can imagine looking out through the curtain of an inky mane as trumpets blare.

“Deal.” I announce. This is the kind of thing we were hoping to find. With this, I should be able to find out where the Scourge is … if he is even still around or even alive. Again, I don’t believe Asra would send me on a wild goose chase.

“Finally. Someone who sees the value of such a treasure!” The dealer exclaims. “This was the only personal item in the Scourge’s dressing room. I should know, I took it myself.”

“And how much for this invaluable treasure?” Julian inquires as I continue to examine the brush, feeling the energy still attached to it.

“How much do you got?” Gone is the over the top friendliness and it is replaced with a true haggler. Julian sighs and dumps his coin purse out on the table. That’s a lot of pirate gold. The dealer is croaking weakly at the clinking pile long enough for us to find the ladder back upstairs.

“Hey! This isn’t real pirate money! The gold scratches right off!” The voice of the memory dealer sounds over the hush of the Red Market. Biting his lip, Julian hustles me up the ladder and out of the market. As soon as we slam the trap door behind us, all is quiet except for Julian’s ragged chuckle. I raise a brow at him.

“Fake money?” I ask, incredulous. Julian nods still laughing.

“Yeah. Pirates must have stiffed me. Who would have thought?” He says. Well, the dealer did try to trick us so all is fair in love and war, I suppose. We dust ourselves off and Julian helps me to my feet with a roguish smile.

“Where to now, boss?” He asks me once we are both standing. “What does the boar bristle brush say?” I ignore his teasing attitude and focus my energy on the object and the aura inside, holding it close, amplifying its vibration.

“That way.” I declare. I follow its leading, with Julian close behind at my heels. Our wandering path takes us surprisingly far, to the edge of town … the edge of the deep forest. The closer we get, the stronger the pull I feel from the energy source.

“Into the woods we go?” Julian asks, clearly not pleased with this turn of events. I nod, not exactly happy about it myself. Into the woods we go. Unfortunately, it’s starting to get dark. I glance up and notice the cloudy sky. We are probably going to get caught in the rain, in the woods, at night. Fabulous.


	3. Lost and Found

Darkness quickly sets upon us as we enter the forest, swirling around us like a thick cloak. Ahead, the path is swallowed up by shadows. A softly glowing ball of energy floats beside us, illuminating the forest with a sickly white tinge. And above us, the sky trembles. A few raindrops patter on our faces, the beginnings of a proper storm. Julian squints up at the clouds, the storm mirrored in his face, and then looks dubiously down at me.

“You’re sure that spell’s working properly?” He asks me. “I doubt anyone lives out here in the, uh, spooky forest. No one who wants to be found, at least.” Julian’s right about that. The only reason someone would live in these woods is if they wanted to be left alone. It’s the perfect place to run away from it all. I could see myself doing something similar.

Distant thunder rolls over the horizon, and suddenly the sky breaks, pouring torrential rain down onto our heads. Julian shouts something, but I don’t hear what he says because the words are swallowed up by the noise. With a grimace, he wraps an arm around my shoulders, and ushers me off the path we’re following into the shelter of the trees. This is turns out to be a good move as my magic tugs us further into the dense foliage, an invisible string leading us along … To a hut made of rocks, covered in moss. It’s nestled behind some trees, dilapidated and old. And the string stops tugging, right at its door. This is where my magic wants us to be.

“Think this is the place?” Julian asks somewhat rhetorically. “Err, Mr. Scourge, are you in there??” Julian knocks, but there’s no answer from inside. After a moment, he tries his luck with the door. It swings slowly open.

“Well … no use staying out here in the rain. Might as well head inside.” Julian says. He has a point. Crashing here is better than getting even more soaked.

“Why not? Let’s go.” I say with a shrug. We’re not likely to find any better shelter from the storm … and this is where the magic led us. Where better to wait for the Scourge to come back … provided that he is coming back.

“That’s what I like to hear! A proper sense of adventure’s important in life.” Julian says with a grin. He swings the door open wider, and then gestures me in. “After you my dear.” The interior is nearly as damp and dark as the forest outside, but at least there isn’t rain pouring in. There’s not much to look at … it’s decidedly sparse. Roots from a great tree growing outside creep across the roof, twining with the support beams, slowly reclaiming the structure. There are still embers in the small, sooty fireplace at the far end of the room, but they’re burned down to almost nothing. Seems like it’s been a few hours since the hut’s occupant was home.

“Cozy, isn’t it?” Julian muses. Strangely enough, he doesn’t have to stoop as he enters. The space is cramped in size, but the ceiling is quite high … There’s something very familiar about this place. Like I’ve been here before …

“Looks like he’s still living here, at least. I don’t see any weapons around. You think he’s given up on the head chopping business” Julian looks around the hut, examining what few artifacts there are inside. Along the few knickknacks in the hut, there’s a little carved bear statue standing in a small alcove on the far wall. It’s brown and mottled, with a sad grimace painted on its worn face. The paint is faded around the edges. It looks well loved and often handled, like it has special meaning to the owner. Julian gives the small bear careful consideration.

“Huh … I’ve got one just like it. Mine’s a raven, though. Asra gave it to me …” Julian mutters looking at the bear, seemingly talking to himself. I open my mouth to respond, but a sneeze overtakes me instead.

“Oh, are you cold?” Julian turns to me. I can see him turning into a mother hen again. “You should have told me, Shayde. I don’t want you to suffer on my behalf. Come on, let’s get you warmed up.” That sounds like a wonderful idea.

“Only if you join me.” I reply. As soon as the words leave my mouth, I realize how they probably sound, especially to Julian. I meant that I wanted him to share his body heat, but … I’m okay with some snuggling too.

“Feeling bold, Shayde?” Julian asks with that grin of his. “If you need a little extra body heat, I’ll be happy to share, my dear.” He rustles around the hut, coming up with a big pile of furs, and drops them down in front of the fireplace.

“It’s no plush Palace chaise, but it’ll do in a pinch.” He says as he gestures for me to sit, and I settle softly on the furs. It is comfortable … and plenty cozy. If I wasn’t so focused on finding the Scourge and hopefully some clue about the murder, I’d be quite happy to stay here for hours. Maybe with a good book and something warm to drink.

“Frankly, I’ve holed up in worse places than this. At least we’re on solid ground as the storm hits.” Julian says, making conversation as he works on making the hut as warm as possible. “I was in a shipwreck once, you know. Washed ashore near Prakra, hitchhiked my way back to civilization.” He sets about poking the fire back to life, crouching down in front of the fire pit. I had not known that. Another interesting twist in the good Doctor’s life.

“There, fire’s lit. I’m sure Mr. Scourge won’t mind some company … if he’s even coming back.” Julian says. I shiver, and reach out to tug Julian to sit down next to me. He promised me some warmth and I’m going to get what I was promised. He lands with a soft ‘oof!’ in my lap, and then sprawls out, making himself comfortable.

“Mm. How cliché. Two people, alone in the woods … cold and wet. Sitting in front of a fire. Lucky for you, I like cliché. Nothing wrong with the classics.” Julian observes. He reaches out and cups my cheek, touch warm and eyes eager.

“Feel better?” He asks me. His thumb rubs soothingly across my cheek as he speaks. I find myself smiling happily.

“Now I do.” I answer honestly.

“Oh, er. Good. Me too.” Julian stammers, like he wasn’t expecting that reply. “… No, really. I feel infinitely better, and it’s all thanks to you. When I first came back to town, I didn’t have anyone in my corner.” I reach down and run my fingers through his thick hair as he talks. He smiles up at me, sincerity in his gaze. He is already so different from the man I met in my shop so few nights ago.

“You made me realize how trapped I felt … and now I feel hopeful, for the first time in a long while. I’d forgotten what that felt like …” Julian tells me. “So … thank you. Thank you, Shayde. No matter what happens in the future you gave me this.” He reaches up, hand on the back of my neck, and gently pulls my head down. Our lips brush lightly against each other in the barest of kisses. That is not enough for me. I surge down to deepen the kiss, and- A figure bursts into the hut with a flash of lightening, kicking the door open forcefully. Julian flies away from me, shock painted on his face, and casts his gaze about. I tense, ready to dart if I have to.

“What- what are _you_ doing here?” The stranger asks. I notice the curious emphasis he placed on the word ‘you’, but is he meaning me … or Julian? I don’t get the opportunity to ask, because Julian speaks up before I can sort my thoughts.

“Who, us?” Julian asks. “Wow you’re a big one aren’t you. Uhh, Mr. Scourge I presume? We’ve been looking for you-” He is suddenly cut off by the massive figure.

“That’s not my name. Get out.” He lumbers further into the hut, a hulking figure that seems to take up all the space in the cramped room. Now the high ceiling makes sense. But now that he’s closer, I can see something in his arms. A shaking bundle of fabric, and … fur? The man notices me staring and glares, arms tightening around it. He clearly does not trust us and I really can’t blame him. I had the same reaction to finding strangers in my shop.

“Julian …” I call to him, trying to get him to notice what the man is carrying.

“What, uh.” He answers, then he notices the bundle. “What do you have there, then?” An answering whine from the bundle and then a head pokes out of the cloth. A wolf. It’s sable fur is spattered with flecks of blood, a maw dripping viscous red onto the floor.

“Oh. Well, hello there. Is … is it hurt?” Julian asks. I’ve never heard him use that voice. It seems the good Doctor has a soft spot for animals. Somehow he just got more adorable. The man nods very very slowly, staring at us warily. Poor creature.

“Well lucky for you I’m a doctor then. Maybe I can help it.” Julian offers. The response is immediate and final sounding.

“No. Keep your hands off her.” He sets the wolf down very gently in the furs. The fire is already running low again. He hovers over her, nearly covering her body with his own. Is he … trying to keep her safe from us? I need to show him that we mean no harm and are willing to help if we can.

“We can help. Please.” I say. I hate to see anyone in pain, whether human or animal. The man looks even more startled to hear me speak, shying away from me. There’s fear on his face, quickly shut out and replaced with anger. Anger at who … or what? He is very hard to read.

“Come now. Look, I promise. If I make it worse, you can choke me out yourself.” Julian says, slowly taking his gloves off, holding his bare hands up as he approaches them. The man’s grip tightens, eyes narrowing. He shakes his head, refusing to move.

“I, er … Shayde?” Julian looks at me helplessly, gesturing vaguely at the man. What does he expect me to do? I only have one idea about how to get him to cooperate …

“Asra sent us.” I say suddenly. “He said you could help.” … Color paints his cheeks as I say Asra’s name. I’m not sure if he’s angry, or just embarrassed. Then, after a long moment of tense silence, he slowly moves away from the wolf, and allows Julian to approach. She snarls, baring her teeth and snapping at the air. The large man reaches out, gently stroking her fur and calming her. After a moment, she settles and allows Julian to approach. He drops down beside her, running his hands over the deep gouges in her side.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.” Julian assures in a quiet and calming tone. He strokes the wolf’s head, murmuring low to her. There’s a spark of nostalgia in his eyes.

“You must be in a lot of pain, aren’t you girl?” Julian closes his eyes, hands pressing lightly to the injured areas. The mark on his throat glows, and I know exactly what he’s doing. I’ve seen him do it once before … Blood blossoms on his arms, long deep gouges like talons scraped across and breaking the skin. Then they too already begin to heal, slowly sealing up completely in front of me. The man surges forward then, dropping down beside the wolf once more to check on her. Her opens her mouth, examining her teeth, and checking her eyes and ears as well. Finally, he settles back, seemingly satisfied.

“……… Thank you.” The stranger says.

“Ahem. No problem, it’s what I’m here for.” Julian smiles and stands, apparently too quickly because he starts swaying a little. I rush forward to support him, and lead him over to sit on a rickety stool. He told me before that healing takes everything out of him.

“Oof, that smarts.” Julian gasps out as he collapses on the stool. There’s a long moment where none of us speak, quietly processing what just happened.

“So, er. You’re the Scourge of the South then, are you?” Julian asks, breaking the silence with his usual tact. I seriously consider smacking him on the back of the head, like Mazelinka does on occasion.

“… I don’t do that anymore.” Is the reply.

“Oh, er. Clearly. So, uh, do you have a name then?” Julian asks next.

“… Muriel.”

“Ah, Muriel! A, er. Strong name …? I’m Julian, and this lovely vision is Shayde. We haven’t meet before, have we …?” The Doctor continues.

“… You said Asra sent you.” Muriel slowly turns his gaze towards me, a doleful look on his face. He doesn’t quite meet my eyes. Much like an abused, wild animal would act.

“Er. In a roundabout sort of way. He didn’t exactly give us directions …” Julian begins.

“How did you find me then?” Muriel asks.

“We used this …” I pull the boar bristle brush from my bag, and place it gently down on the table in front of us. Muriel looks nearly stricken. He reaches out, taking it delicately in his hands, and stares at it. Then he throws it into the fire with a scowl. I really should have seen that coming. Still … I can’t fault his for reacting that way.

“Where did you find that?” The giant of a man asks us.

“Er … We had ourselves a jaunt under the Coliseum, picked up a few souvenirs.” Julian tells him. At the mention of the Coliseum, Muriel’s entire demeanor changes. There’s a sudden palpable tension in the air.

“And what did you find out … at the Coliseum?”

“That’s just the thing, though. Hardly anyone could remember you at all.” Julian says with a shrug. Tension leaves Muriel’s shoulders. He lets out a low breath and stands. Then he jerks his chin towards me, voice gruffest when he speaks.

“You … follow me. We need some firewood.” He says. He trundles out of the hut without another word, leaving Julian and I baffled in his wake. We exchange a look, then Julian shrugs and gestures towards the door, lifting an eyebrow. I nod, and follow Muriel outside. Muriel heads over to a little shed near the hut, with a pile of logs settled beside it. He sets one on a stump, and pulls an ax from its resting place against a tree. I watch his muscles shift and tense under his rain-slicked skin as he chops the firewood. I feel rather silly talking here doing nothing, but he doesn’t seem to need any help either. He gathers the logs in his arms, and turns back to the hut.

“… Move.” He says. I step aside, and he gives me a wide berth as he heads back inside. I follow after him at a safe distance. As we reenter the small room, I see something glow on his bare back … It’s a mark, just like the one on Julian’s throat. It flashes a bright white, just as Julian jumps up and stares at the both of us.

“Shayde! Who’s this big brute you’ve got with you?! Did he try to hurt you? En garde!” He challenges. Muriel looks startled for a moment, and then ignores Julian as he heads over to the fireplace to build up the fire. What has gotten into him?

“Julian … he was just in here. You don’t remember him?” I ask in confusion.

“What’re you on about? I think I’d remember such a, er … hulking presence.” Julian tells me. I don’t get a chance to respond to that curious statement.

“You wouldn’t.” Muriel mutters. “People … forget me.”

“They … forget you? Just like that?” Julian asks. He shifts a little awkwardly, then shakes his head, and drops down onto a rickety stool near a small worn table. Muriel gives him a disgruntled look, and then keeps poking the fire. There seems to be a trend in Vesuvia with people forgetting things or even other people.

“Don’t you have … questions, or something, for me.” Muriel says. He is clearly hoping to get this over with so we will leave. I decide not to bother asking if he and I have met before. It won’t really matter all that much and will only succeed in making things even more awkward.

“How did it happen?” I ask him instead.

“… I helped a friend.” He says vaguely. “And I was rewarded in return. I asked for this.” I wonder what it would be like, to ask for something like that and get it. If it’s what he wanted … I’m glad that he got it then.

“That is a blessing.”

“What, total anonymity? You think that sounds like a blessing?” Julian asks, incredulous. “No one to talk to … no one to remember you … Sounds like a curse.”

“Maybe to you.” Muriel scoffs. “All I want … is to be left alone.” He gives the both of us a rather pointed look. Another silence falls over the hut. I shift my weight, then head over to the table to sit down next to Julian. Muriel meanwhile hovers near the fireplace, glancing at the wolf in worry every so often.

“Er, well, Muriel, can I call you Muriel?” Julian begins.

“No.”

“Uh … let me just get to the point then, and we’ll be out of your hair.” Julian rummages around in his coat pocket, before fishing out the key he found on his desk in the library yesterday. “Recognize this?”

“… Yes.” Muriel says, but he doesn’t say anything else.

“Oh! Well, grand then … Errr, care to elaborate?” Julian asks, wanting to move things along. Muriel sighs heavily, shoulders lifting up and dropping slowly as he gives Julian a begrudging nod.

“It was the night … The night of the fire.” Muriel says, still sounding reluctant to speak. “Asra sent me to find you.” Wait … if he knew all this, why didn’t Asra just tell us that? Why send us on this strange chase underground then into the woods?

“Asra was there? You were there? You know Asra? Why don’t I remember any of this?” Julian sounds downright distressed by what he is hearing. I can relate to that. Realizing that there are things about yourself that others know, but you don’t is … unsettling to say the least. Muriel however looks annoyed at the interruption.

“… You were locked in a dungeon.” He tells us next.

“Locked in a dungeon … _before_ the murder? What for?” Julian wonders.

“I don’t know. But I let you out. I led you up to … his room. L… You know. Him. The room was already on fire. You ran in, and I left.” Muriel concludes. That was … quite unexpected. For a moment, no one moves or speaks.

“……The room was already on fire …? I’m innocent …?” Julian blinks owlishly down at the brand, the murderer’s brand, on the back of his left hand, turning it over in the firelight. “I’m innocent.” One of his bare hands lifts to idly trace along the arc of his eyepatch. The look on his face is stricken … and a little hopeful.

“I … I remember now. I was in the dungeon that night, working on a cure. I wasn’t making fast enough progress … Lucio locked me down there to incentivize me. Said it’d keep me from getting distracted.” Julian recalls. He closes his eye, then looks at me with renewed hop. Something bright dances in his eye.

“And Shayde …” He grins at me, and then pulls the eyepatch from his face, letting it flutter to the floor. “I did it. I found the cure.” The eye underneath the patch is whole, and even working- I can see it slowly opening from a squint as he adjusts to the dim light. But it isn’t healthy looking at all. The sclera is dyed a deep, bloody crimson. The same color of all plague victim’s eyes.

“This is what happens when you’re infected with the plague. I was … dying. But the cure, it worked. And it could still be down there, in that dungeon.” He looks triumphant, and totally vindicated. There’s a wide wonder in his face, like he can’t quite believe it himself.

“Shayde … I didn’t kill the Count. That dungeon … It has everything. My answers, and my cure.” Julian exclaims.


End file.
